So on Thursday the 3rd I was in the hospital. I’m
going back this week for updates and more tests. It’s nothing serious; I just
can’t feel my foot, and if the condition spreads, I’ll never walk again.
We’re calling it “neuropathy” for now. It feels like nothing
serious because of how I’ve been jerked around. The podiatrist gave me
non-prescription drugs that did nothing and seemed annoyed that I wanted to know
why my toes had gone numb. My regular doctor was too busy to see me; his
physician’s assistant was willing, then too busy, and on our make-up, caught a
cold and left work early. It took me four tries to see anybody.
But man, fourth try is the charm! They drew a dizzying
amount of blood for three pages of tests. I’m fielding a new unit of
measurement for blood: “the Tarantino.” Sally extracted at least a Tarantino from
me to see if this is a blood disease, diabetes, hepatitis, MS, or, well, I hadn’t
heard of half these things. Eventually the joke became that maybe I was
pregnant (it doesn’t know where to grow in me, you see). I promised to name it
after Sally if I was.
So now I’m editing my next novel and waiting for a phone
call to find out if something is enormously wrong with me. Is this just my
foot, or will it spread? Will that symptom turn out to be the tip of an
iceberg? Hurry up and wait.
I’m going to blog about this going forward. I believe in
publicly exposing our most sensitive moments. While fiction is my favorite
means of self-expression, this is a gaping wound in my life. Every living
person walks around pretending they don’t have gaping wounds in their lives, and
so I’m going to show mine, in the hopes that more people don’t feel so
uncomfortable or driven to hiding theirs. Hiding what’s eating you is a
terrible idea, not only because you often avoid the kind of reflection and
feedback that might help, but because human history is littered with people who
hid that their fuses were burning until they blew. Whether it’s closeting your
depression, or shouldering cancer on your own, or a marriage that needs
scrutiny and only receives silence – there are too many ways we hurt ourselves.
I’ll happily embarrass myself to do a little good for somebody else.
If that makes no sense to you, we can talk about it.
It makes perfect sense to me and yay to you for talking about it.
ReplyDeleteGeez, John, I'm so sorry to hear your health problems are continuing. I'm glad you finally got in to see the doc and get the Tarantino. Fingers are crossed that the numbness disappears in your foot and doesn't spread anywhere else. I mean you've dealt with ENOUGH! oxo
Thanks Cathy. I'll definitely persist in blogging about it, unless I get lucky and this turns out to be an easily reversed condition. I'd like not to deal with much more, but that doesn't seem to be the way of life.
DeleteIt makes a lot of sense here as well. And how this post brought back memories. My MS was finally diagnoses (and as far as I know there isn't a blood test) after I lost feeling in both legs to my groin, and had reduced feeling to my clavicle. A scary time, as it must be for you.
ReplyDeleteI am glad that I don't need to ask you to keep us posted - and I will be thinking of you hoping for the best possible outcome.
I'm sorry for all you've had to go through. I've only known you for a year, but I admired how you documented your and the Smaller Portion's process on your blog.
DeleteI am sorry. I expressed myself badly and created a comment which was all me, me, me. Which wasn't my intention at all. What I was trying to say was that I know (a little) where you are coming from, and that you have all my best wishes.
DeleteI didn't read your comment as selfish! You were relating to my situation. I appreciated it.
DeleteI had no idea this was the cause of the Tarantino-scale exsanguination. Prayers and best wishes for you, John.
ReplyDeleteThank you for both the prayers and wishes, Tony. A lot more hospital visits coming.
DeleteOh, John, I'm sorry to hear. Hope the numbness goes away and in general you feel better! x
ReplyDeleteThanks Cindy. It would be nice to start recovering some of this nonsense.
DeleteSounds serious, but I hope it turns out to be something easily treatable. I wonder if it's related to your syndrome somehow.
ReplyDeleteI will be very happy to announce an anticlimactic cure to this weird condition. One hypothesis right now is that my syndrome is burning out certain nerve clusters - it's a little too plausible, but dangerous.
DeleteHopefully the waiting turns out to be the worst part, John. Good wishes going your way for it being an easily treatable condition. And great idea of tackling it head-on in your writing.
ReplyDeleteThat'd be nice, Eric! And I'll do my best to keep this up.
DeleteI'm hoping for you, John. Thank you for sharing this openly; I feel vicariously terrified and your chutzpah in posting about it this here is admirable in the extreme.
ReplyDeleteBetter to post about it now than be unable to later! Thanks man.
DeleteI also hope that things work out for the best. *hugs*
ReplyDeleteThank you kindly, Theresa.
DeleteOh my, that's hard stuff to go through. May I offer a gentle hug? *hug*
ReplyDeleteI'll take as enthusiastic a hug as is available!
DeleteI stopped seeing doctors after 4 blown attempts to test the "electric shock" feeling in my feet. They've either gone away or I've gotten used to them. Who knows? I've most certainly given up a Tarantino of blood for tests before. I love that term and will use it in your honor.
ReplyDeleteHere's hoping that your foot is okay and it's something treatable in the end. Good luck, my friend.
Glad the Tarantino will spread! Do you have use of your feet now? I feel like an awful friend if I was unaware you didn't, but about time I learned.
DeleteThinking of you, John. It sucks no matter what. Hoping for a positive outcome...
ReplyDeleteTemporary suckage I can deal with. Here's hoping.
DeleteGood luck, John. I know how scary it is but you're being persistent, which I've found to be one of the most important things to finding answers. Remember if this one doctor can't find anything that there are other doctors out there. My first neurologist told me to "learn to live with it" when the tests she ordered didn't show anything. I had to go to a nerve pain specialist to get a diagnosis.
ReplyDeleteIf this crew can't do anything, I'll definitely look for referrals to another set. You're right that resting on one doctor's unhelpfulness is ultimately the most destructive decision.
DeleteThanks John - thanks for sharing. I look forward to reading and hope the prognosis is better than this...
ReplyDeleteAnd thank you. I'll update as soon as I've got something. Physician's assistant just tried to postpone again.
DeleteUgh -- I hope you get well soon! I can completely empathise about the doctors.
ReplyDeleteDumb non-medical question -- could it be a chiropractic thing? Right now I'm dealing with a sore knee that is actually caused by my lower back being out of whack, and it makes my toes get ginger ale shocks from time to time. I mean hey, if the doctors think you might be pregnant, may as well cover all the bases...
I don't think chiropractics is a dumb question here. I have a history of back problems and it was the first question I asked my podiatrist. Because the nerve failures in the tests are specific to my feet, and not in the ankle or shin, the conclusion was that it's a local problem for now. It's not something I'm going to disregard, though, especially if other tests prove unhelpful.
DeleteI truly hope they find out what's wrong and can resolve it for you. My thoughts and prayers are with you.
ReplyDeleteI'm still on the fence about the whole "God" thing so I'm not going to pray for you. But I do sort-of believe in karma/energy so I will be sending you my energy in thought, emotion and focus. Love you!
ReplyDeleteHey John. I think it's cool you're sharing and hope you'll continue. One day, when we do meet, I'll be sure to give you a proper hug.
ReplyDelete